The Many Delights of An Innocent Snack
by iKingBearII
Summary: Ginny wants ice cream.


**Informal challenge-esque fic from a good friend which was much more fun than I expected. Also much smuttier. The 'prompt' was "Ginny wants ice cream." This is what my mind did with it.**

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Today was _not _shaping up to be a good day for one Ginevra Molly Potter. In most of life, she had few complaints; today, however, had not started well nor had it gotten any better. There had been a recent increase in Dark Magic activity and, as a result, her husband had been working far more than she was used to. This led to a very unsatisfied Ginny, who before had most nights with him home at a reasonable time.

He wasn't the only busy one; the Harpies were very close to grabbing the League Cup this year, and considering their poor placement last year, Gwenog had them working harder than Ginny had ever worked in her life. It left her satisfyingly fit, but unsatisfyingly busy.

So, as she stumbled home in an enervated daze, she decided she was in for a little reward, Gwenog's dieting rules be damned. She hadn't had any ice cream in _months_—that was _criminal._ Fortescue's had always been a nice childhood thing, but they hadn't been able to afford it often, it was mostly just a treat, so she hadn't been able to enjoy her obsession too much. Unfortunately, Fortescue had been killed during the war and his shop had closed.

That uncertain year after the War, when they tried to rework their relationship, she had confessed her favorite treat to Harry, who had immediately gone to great lengths to indulge her. Ginny had always joked that the moment she knew she'd loved Harry was when he had used his influence as a silent partner to convince George and Ron to introduce a new line of ice cream for the Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes, which had been a great profit for them and a delight for Ginny. In the end, they both knew she'd loved him for far longer than that.

Today, Harry had mentioned some ice cream in the dazed few minutes of her waking up, and Ginny decided that it was no longer a want for her to have some ice cream. She _needed _it. Ice cream mattered. Much to her delight, she had discovered it was her favorite – butter pecan – and her brothers made it. She had been very careful to hide her obsession; it seemed girly, and Ginny had never wanted her brothers to see her girly side. George sometimes gave her knowing looks and he had made a few teasing comments in passing, but Ron was ever oblivious. She was confident that George had done the ice cream line for her more than for Harry's influence.

She retrieved a spoon and, not even bother to read the label – however she did note that it did look different than the normal ones – she dug in, nearly moaning at the taste. She knew that this ice cream was also one of Harry's favorites, and she wished he were here.

Curiously, as she ate, she felt _better_. Her weary muscles – not fully soothed by the warm shower afterward – were now less sapped. The energy was nice, but she felt a little hot—it was nearly summer, so that wasn't surprising, but the house was normally cool. Harry may have done something. She wished he was here for her to ask, but she contented herself with waiting until he got home.

And eating more of this fantastic ice cream. She had thought that Harry mentioned something about being home early tonight, but she couldn't be sure, as most of what he'd told her was buzzed out by sleep. He should have known better after all these years. She would have to thank her brothers, though. This was, without a doubt, the best batch she'd ever had. She would have done without the heat, though. She was tempted to perform a cooling charm on the kitchen, but they agreed to do as little magic here as possible—they had some muggle items.

Thoughts of Harry evolved, then. She was quite cross with him. She knew work was important, but they hadn't properly shagged in _weeks_. She groaned as her nipples hardened—the last time had been very satisfying, leaving her wanting more. Conflicting schedules and exhaustion made the spectacular stuff difficult, unfortunately.

She sighed and resealed the ice cream, knowing she would be too distracted to eat it at this point. Visions of his dark hair and handsome face, trailing down her body… The living room door banged open and she jumped up with a start, her hand yanking back from its downwards path – she hadn't even realized she was doing it.

Standing, she determined to kill whoever had just entered if it wasn't Harry. Unfortunately, her legs were not as strong as she had thought, and she had to lean against the table for a moment. Much to her delight, though, Harry strode into the kitchen. "Ginny, are yo—" he called and paused upon seeing her.

"Harry," she said, her voice huskier than she had expected.

"Ginny, you _didn't,_" Harry said, his voice a queer mix of shock and amusement.

"Didn't—what the bloody hell are you talking about?" In response to her question, he gestured weakly to the ice cream beside her.

"Yeah, I was _hungry,_ and I wanted ice cream. Don't look at me like I _killed somebody_," she defended grumpily, annoyed by her weakness—really, she had no idea why she was suddenly so aroused.

"Ginny! I told you this morning, that was from the _new_ line of WWW products. The _back of the store _stuff. Blimey, Gin, that's an _aphrodisiac. _George and Ron have no idea I got that."

She groaned as the knut dropped—_no wonder I couldn't stop thinking of Harry_. "Oh, Harry—it was _good_."

He laughed before he turned serious, his eyes darkening, "Just how much of that did you eat?"

"A good half, probably, I—damn it, Harry, I need you," she conceded, her arousal now nearly unbearable near him. She shoved the ice cream across the table with a smile.

Much to her surprise, he swept across the room, ignoring it completely, and pulled her face up to meet his in a heated kiss. After an indeterminable amount of time, he pulled back, "Ginny, you should know I don't need the bloody ice cream. Only you—it's only ever been you," he said, pulling her shirt off as she grappled with his uniform. She had admitted to him that his Auror Robes were a turn-on, and they'd had some interesting experiments with it. Unfortunately, it had a _lot _of buttons. After a moment, she growled and vanished it entirely, much to his amusement.

He kneaded her chest for a few moments before vanishing the sports bra covering them, grinning as her breasts were freed. He lowered his head to her chest, pulling one of her nipples into his mouth eagerly.

"Oh, Harry, yes!" Ginny exclaimed, barely conscious of her words. The ice cream had also served to heighten her senses.

His hands slid down her soft back and dipped into her trousers and knickers, sliding them both down and off her. His erection was now pressing painfully against its confinements, so he took the time that she stepped out of her garments to remove his own, nearly sighing with relief as he was freed. Their eyes made contact for a second, and Harry stepped forward, his hands gripping her bum and lifting her to set her on the table. Not exactly comfortable, but it was efficient.

He leaned down to kiss her deeply, his fingers sliding down to find her extremely aroused, her wetness coating his fingers. Grinning as she moaned into his mouth, his fingers grazed her clit teasingly. She pulled back from the kiss and growled at him before attacking his neck, leaving a mark—or several. He wanted nothing more than to take her now, but he had always been a patient lover, and patience was always rewarded.

He detached her head from his neck and lowered himself to a crouch, his mouth finding her clit as his fingers drifted over her folds and pressed inwards. He smiled against her as she shrieked her pleasure. He'd known that the ice cream would heighten senses, but he had no idea it'd be this effective—he'd have to send a thank-you letter to George; anonymously, of course.

But his musings were interrupted by a harsh grip on her hair. Ginny tugged him upwards, pressing her lips against his. He groaned at the thought of her tasting herself—it was surprisingly arousing. After a moment she pushed him back and leaned back. "I need you _in _me, Potter, get to it."

He grinned down at her, taking a second to admire her disheveled state. Her hair was mussed, and her face was flushed, her eyes dark with lust. He'd never been more aroused in his life. Deciding that any more delay would lead to more pain than it was worth, he lined himself up with her and pressed inwards, admiring the tight heat that encased him. It had been too long—it was criminal.

Her legs wrapped around him, using her newfound strength to pull him in as deep as possible, and they both let out a pleased sigh. For a few moments he just enjoyed their closeness; he had always loved this intimacy with Ginny, and he knew he'd never be able to share it with anyone else. Her form melded perfectly against—and around—his.

He was startled out of his reverie by her hips pressing up, reminding—and possibly warning—him. With a chuckle, he pulled back to thrust into her. He'd meant to start lightly but he was not in control as much as he'd thought—indeed, his body had taken over, and he thrust hard against her, deeper into her. She let out a cry of satisfaction and he continued the pace heatedly, determined to draw out as much pleasure as possible for both of them.

He dimly registered her hand sliding between them to rub her clit, bringing her to a screaming climax. He groaned as she tightened around him, bringing him to his own. He held his hands out on either side of her to hold himself up as he laid against her, panting heavily. The press of his naked flesh against her own in the afterglow had her sighing in satisfaction. After a few moments—much needed for them to gather their breath—Ginny groaned, pushing him off of her and sliding off the table.

"I am going to have to write a bloody thank-you letter to George, you know," he commented, the words around forming in his mind.

It was then that Ginny had a question, "Err, Harry … when does this wear off?"

He grinned at her plight, "Well, you ate half the bloody batch, it's meant to be used sparingly. So … Probably not until tomorrow, if I had to guess."

Her eyes widened, "Harry, Ron, and Hermione are supposed to come over tonight!"

He smiled, pulling her up to him in a gentle kiss. "We can lock the Floo and close the house off. Ron and Hermione can have their night—I want to make the most of this happy little accident, love."

Ginny smiled, feeling the stress of the last few weeks vanishing under his love. Despite her already returning—had it ever left?—arousal, she felt an overpowering sense of love for the man in front of her. Despite work, and exhaustion, and all the other obstacles in their way, she would always have him and always love him.

He strode into the living room to lock the Floo and close off the house. He returned with youthful energy he hadn't felt in weeks and picked her up, carrying her upwards, to their bedroom. The ice cream lay forgotten, along with their stress and concerns. Tonight was for them, for their love.


End file.
